


Sour Blessings

by RiYuYami



Series: Sour Blessings [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley are swapped but so are some of the humans, Cat Demon, Crowley is not Raphael, Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Gen, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Reverse Omens, Similar plot to canon but also very different, Snake Angel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiYuYami/pseuds/RiYuYami
Summary: God has given Her black sheep of the flock of angels a special task: go down there and make some trouble.Satan told this weirdo demon to get outta Hell, go up to Earth, and make something of himself.Azrafel and Samael, later Aziraphale and Crowley, decide that these strange orders were a blessing in disguise for them, and watch the world evolve around them after an angel tempted Eve to sin and a demon performed the first good deed on Earth.Wonder if that will have any sour consequences for them down the road.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), The Them & Adam Young (Good Omens)
Series: Sour Blessings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026102
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	1. So an Angel and Demon Meet on a Wall...

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently today is a good day to write a reverse omens fanfic even though I have yet to really figure out my designs, since I have two of them. Not smart.
> 
> Anyway, that’s not gonna stop me.
> 
> Warning: Crowley is based on an actual angel, who acts like a demon in certain texts or is considered Satan but not in this story. Samael isn’t a full-on demon, but he is what you would consider the black sheep of the family, just like Azrael, the Angel of Death. But in case you’re wondering, Samael is the Left Hand of God, and is in a pretty good position, but for the sake of this fic, Samael!Crowley still does what Crowley does, be a pest (but in a good way haha). Aziraphale isn’t based on a real demon, he’s just a low rank one that got booted up to Earth cause no one else wanted the job. 
> 
> Change of plot yet still follows canon. None of the other angels and demons have swapped, but some of the humans have to fit certain parallels. 
> 
> The title is a reverse of sweet blessings, and points to whoever can figure out why I picked that as a title. It has to do with another fandom I’m in. 
> 
> On with the fic!

The Great War of Heaven had ended a long time ago, at least that is what Samael assumed.

Time meant nothing in Heaven, it was there, but it wasn’t really that big of a deal, at least not until a few days ago, when Earth began. Time was still a new invention, it had always existed though, but no one gave it any notice until God said that it was now a thing they needed to be aware of, at least on Earth.

In Heaven? Ehh… if you wanna consider time a thing there, sure, why not. Just another recent change to the norm, like the War and a significant decrease in angels. 

It was rather quiet up here in Heaven, after the war, the remaining angels had become so paranoid and high strung that everyone kept to themselves and tried to make themselves busy with whatever they could find to do.

Samael hated it, there was nothing to do around here! He was so bored! So very, very bored! Transcendently bored!

And the other Archangels had removed him from star making duty, apparently they now had some automated system to do that, which really annoyed him.

It hadn’t been his department to begin with, but no one questioned him running around, making stars, planets, and galaxies, outside of being ordered to handle making Earth’s personal star. But he assumed that was just to keep him, the Blindness of God, busy, as no one liked to associate with him, even before the war.

Samael got why he wasn’t really liked, the black feather in the white wings of the stuffiest of angels, it seems. He had a reputation, even before he made a reputation for himself, simply by being given roles that were not… regarded in a good light amongst his fellow celestials.

He didn’t blame God for his roles, personally he rather liked them over what he was originally meant to be, the Angel of Death.

But he and Azrael had switched these jobs when they were created, asking Her for permission. She said yes without much of a fuss, since either way, they still worked with similar jobs. One was a destroyer, the other a reaper of the destroyed.

However, that put an angel like himself in the other angels’ bad books. They didn’t like someone who was known as a destroyer, or even the accuser and seducer, the Venom of God! Can’t have creation without destruction, so why be mad at him?

Bunch of wankers, the whole lot of ‘em.

Samael huffed, resting his chin on his hand as he sat on the floor, looking out at the Earth, in all its glory and beauty. His wings rested on either side of him, black as night, speckled with spots of color, matching the scales of one of his forms. A snake, God had told him, that was what he was. He was a snake meant to bring about something very important, but he didn’t know what that was, outside of it being another tally on the list of things the others hated about him.

The other angels didn’t like his job, didn’t like his animal association, and practically loathed the fact that he chose to have black wings, and actually kept them black after they watched half their siblings fall from grace! Black was a bad color for wings in their eyes, wings should not go anywhere near such a hue! Even a dark grey was given questioning looks!

But Samael wasn’t like the others, simply because he really couldn’t care less what his fellow angels thought! Fuck them, honestly. They already got suspicious of him not Falling, even though he had been good friends with Lucifer, to the point that people considered them practically the same sort of angel, which was a bit of an insult to Samael.

He liked Lucifer, but wow, even he knew the guy got a little too crazy with his opinions and ideas. Hence, he stayed out of the war for as long as he could, until Michael and Gabriel pulled Samael into fighting with his flaming sword. Apparently, _all_ the Archangels had to fight.

And after all the war and violence? He still stuck around, he was sure the only reason he was pulled into it was to Fall, but that didn’t happen. God wasn’t going to lose Her Left Hand so easily.

And speaking of the Almighty…

“Hey, Mum.” Samael spoke, looking over his shoulder. He should take on his true form for Her, but he liked his human corporation he was recently given. It was rather nice, felt more fun to him than being a giant snake with the head of a lion whose mane was made of pure star concentration. Also, he liked the ability to show expressions, and to have hands! He liked those, feet were still a problem though, had yet to master walking correctly, always with a swagger, that was him.

Seems that God decided on a human appearance as well. He didn’t see Her as a single form, but instead Samael saw Her as a constantly shifting form of a human, becoming all the races, genders, and such that will exist in the world once Adam and Eve, Her favorite project, finally leave their Garden.

God moved towards him, taking a seat to his right, always on the left with him, he didn’t mind, he knew his place. She looked at him with kind, pure white eyes. “Hello, Samael.” She said in a voice that he heard only in his head as her mouth stayed as a still smile.

“Did you need somethin’?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “No offense, but we haven’t seen you since you finished with the Earth, said you were off to rest and… POOF! Mum’s gone on vacation!”

“I’m still resting, dear.” God replied, waving a hand. “But I came to you for a special mission.”

“A special mission?” He perked up, Samael was excited to do whatever She wanted, he was so freaking bored! “Whatcha have in mind?”

Holding out Her hand, God presented to him a single, tiny seed, which he took. “What’s this?” The destroyer asked. He was fascinated with plants, had bothered the angels in charge of designing them to show him what they were working on, until they kicked him out of the labs and banned him for life.

“It is a seed for the most important tree I will ever create.” She spoke softly. “I need you to go to Eden for me and plant it, you will know the spot. And when you do plant it, I need you to do the most important job I could ask of you.”

“And that would be…?”

“You know how I had told you once that you would be the destroyer of sinners?”

“Yes, and you never explained to me what you mean by that.” The angel snorted, rolling his eyes.

God’s smile grew, looking pleased at his sass. “You’ll figure it out once you get down there, dear Samael. Now, as for your most important task, I want you to go down there and cause some trouble.” She winked.

Samael stared at Her, completely and utterly confused. “You… you want me, an angel, to cause trouble? After what happened?”

“It’s not as bad as you think it is. I need you to help me out with My Plan, my child. Will you do this for me?”

The redhead looked at God, slowly blinking, as he thought over what she Said. _My Plan_ , that’s what She had said, not _The_ Plan, not The Plan that all the angels followed. This was important, this was very, very important, he knew this, felt it in his core.

All he could do was nod.

\--

The seed, it turns out, was for something called a lemon tree.

Samael didn’t want to blow his own trumpet, but he was quite proud of how beautiful the tree looked when he had planted it, infusing it with a bit of his magic to help it grown. He knew God had put Her own power into it, but he felt pride in helping!

And then he felt a twinge at the pride.

Oh, it was like a sudden upgrade in his soul! Knowledge of things that he wasn’t truly aware of before! Knowledge of sins and what they were! Wow, there were a lot of loopholes and exceptions when it came to sins, but he understood what his job was now for the humans.

However, that was a problem. Samael knew that the humans were very simple in their ways, they didn’t understand what was bad, everything was good to them, just as God had made it be in the Garden of Eden, but what in all of this new world was he meant to do when it came to sinners if there were no sinners!?

With a huff, he looked up at the tree, at the beautiful lemons. Reaching up, he took one down, looking it over, moving to take a bite, when he felt something run up his spine, a strange feeling.

Theft, there was theft in the Garden.

And a strange detachment to his flaming sword.

Oh. OH SHIT!

His sword was stolen! Someone had stolen it! He moved to go after the thief, but suddenly stopped in his tracks, as if this was not the right move for him. This, he knew, was not the influence of God on him, but of his own soul. He felt like this was not what he needed to do, what he needed to do was his job:

Cause trouble, and what better way to do it than use this tree.

He was a destroyer, he was meant to be poison, with God’s blessing. Samael was going to destroy the good, or at least, the image of there being no bad on Earth. You can’t have good without the bad, and humans needed to know both, they deserved that, they deserved to know of everything that they could learn.

Golden eyes looked at the lemon before Samael grinned, changing form quickly. The rainbow boa made his way up the tree, resting on a branch.

All he had to do was wait.

\--

God had been angry with Eve and Adam for what happened with the Tree of Knowledge, but Samael knew this was important, this needed to happen. It was, after all, part of Her Plan!

However, what wasn’t part of it, was the demon on the Eastern Wall.

Samael looked up at the demonic being, dressed in light gray robes, his wings possibly white, but looked a tinted gray from here. What was he doing up there? Come to watch the show? Slithering up the wall, the boa made his way towards the stranger, changing his form back into his human appearance.

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.” Samael commented casually, twirling a lock of hair around a finger.

“E-excuse me?” The demon blinked, looking at him with two colored eyes, one hazel, the other blue.

Samael could see that he was a bit soft, especially compared to the redhead, with gray hair outside of a strip of pure-white in the front. Strange to see a former angel with a beard, facial hair was still a new thing. The demon’s wings were white, but dreadfully dusty, which had Samael curious.

Dust was not something they had in Heaven, it was always too clean up there, too sterile. Samael was weirdly fascinated by this, and he almost wanted to slap at the feathers, just to see the dust rise, but he decided to not push his luck with such a dumb curiosity.

“I said ‘that went down like a lead balloon’.” Samael repeated himself, his own wings shifting behind him as he turned his attention back to the humans he saw wandering into the desert.

“Oh, yes, it did, rather…” The demon mumbled before moving to stand to Samael’s left, confusing the angel. “Sorry, I’m hard of hearing on my left, you’ll have to speak into the right ear… uhh…”

“Samael.” Replied the angel, who was finding this other being more and more fascinating every second they stood next to one another. No one really stood to the Destroyer’s left, and he rather liked it. Made him a bit giddy.

The demon blinked twice, his slit pupils expanded in realization of who he was speaking to and the redhead snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna do anythin’, don’t worry…”

“Azrafel.”

“Lovely.” He turned away from Azrafel to look over his shoulder at the Garden before looking back at the expansive desert before them. “So, whatcha think of all of this?”

Azrafel raised an eyebrow, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“The whole banishment thing from paradise.” Samael spoke casually, looking at his fingernails, hm, he wondered if he could change the color of them, that would be fun.

The demon sighed, fidgeting with a ring on his pinkie. “I do believe it was… well, a bit of an overreaction, if you ask me. No offense to you and your fellow flock, but to be all dark skies and lightening, frightening those two as such? Seems more like my lot’s doing.”

“Hm.” Samael rocked back and forth on his feet. “No offense taken, I just assumed that God would come down and give ‘em a lecture, but nope. Had to be all dramatic about it, the lightening was a bit much, dark skies were unexpected, though. Such a shame, really, wasn’t like it was a bad thing they did.”

“What… was it exactly that they did?” Samael noticed that Azrafel’s ears were a bit pointed, and they twitched! Was he a cat? That was cute, Samael had seen cats, he rather liked them, very nice to pet. What was it with this guy that just kept drawing Samael in, he wasn’t even doing anything!

“Ate from the Tree of Knowledge.” The snake replied, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Azrafel blinked. “I see… That doesn’t seem so bad of an offense to cause instant banishment in such a way. I don’t really see the point of it for a first mistake.”

“Me either, I mean, I don’t see what’s so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil, anyway.”

“Well, it must be bad, Samael, for you to be here. I might not remember much of Heaven due to the Fall, but one does not forget the Destroyer and Poison of God so easily. I suppose that you’re the one who destroyed the demon that caused them to eat from the tree?”

This earned a bark of laughter from the angel. “I didn’t destroy anyone! Can’t destroy the tempter, that’s technically suicide, and that’s a sin. A Sin Eater like me can’t do that to myself.”

The other man-shaped being’s mouth dropped, and he stared in pure shock. “Y-you tempted them into sin!? Oooh, that’s so very, very naughty of an angel!” He actually smiled, not in malice or anything like that, but from pure fascination, as if this was the most interesting fact he had ever heard in his life.

Samael chuckled a bit, scratching at his head. “Weeelllll… got orders from Her. Just told me to go down here and cause some trouble.”

“Oh, and you most certainly did- wait, Her? As in…?” Azrafel’s brown and blue eyes looked up at the sky. “No, She didn’t!”

“Left Hand of God, my dear demon.” The snake angel smiled, giving a bow. “She created me to destroy sinners and take care of sins, but in order to do that, sin needed to be introduced to the world.”

“Goodness.” Azrafel was stunned, to say the least, giving this some thought. “An angel sent down to start sin in the world… rather ineffable, isn’t it?”

Samael raised an eyebrow. “Ineffable? Are you saying that Her plan is that?”

“It would seem so, I mean, it is rather paradoxical, but it a strange, delightful sort of way. God deciding that sin should even be a thing, and having an angel who was born to destroy it be the one to introduce such a concept to Her greatest creation. Sounds like an ineffable situation.”

“I guess so.”

“And if this is true, well then, guess one cannot go about second-guessing ineffability, yes? I’m sure you questioned this task you were given, right?”

He snorted, shrugging. “Yeah, I mean, it’s a confusing task to be given, but I guess it’s as I said, sin needed to be introduced. Isn’t that right, my little sword thief!”

Azrafel’s face paled and he looked away. “Oh dear…”

“Heh, I knew it! I knew you stole my sword! Where is it? I am probably gonna need that back, ya know.”

The demon shifted on his feet, looking everywhere except at the angel next to him, mumbling something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I... gave it away…”

Samael actually blinked at this, and snakes don’t really blink. “You what?”

“I gave it away!” Azrafel shouted, before slapping a hand over his mouth. Samael’s eyes widened and he felt his heart skip a beat before he glanced towards Adam and Eve, seeing that, yes, his sword had been given away. Given to the First Humans, to help them defend themselves in the wild world.

“They looked so miserable.” The cat demon continued, still fidgeting. “And there are vicious animals, and it’s going to be cold out there, and she’s expecting already! So, I said, here you go, flaming sword, don’t thank me or ask where I got it from, and don’t let the sun go down on you here… I do hope I didn’t do the right thing…”

“You’re a demon,” Samael said when he finally found his voice, still stunned at this new knowledge, “I think you can only do the wrong thing.”

“Heh,” Azrafel relaxed just a little, “I think you’re right. I was told to come up here, to make something of myself. I suppose Hell will be happy I know I gave away the flaming sword of an Archangel to the humans. I had originally planned to take it back to Hell, but this… seemed like the better idea. Or rather, a spur of the moment sort of idea, so it might have been… bad.”

There was a pause and the cat looked at the snake. “I fear that by doing the wrong thing, I did the right thing instead. A demon can get into a lot of trouble by doing the right thing.”

“I’ve been worrying about that too.” Samael sighed. “She told me to cause trouble, but… hehe, funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the bad thing and you did the good one.”

“N-no.” Azrafel frowned, looking worried. “Not funny at all.”

The other gave a shrug. “Suit yourself, we’ll just have to see how things go from here, right?”

“I guess so.”

There was a loud rumble, the darkened clouds that had stuck around were nearly black down, and Samael felt something hit his cheek. Rain, it was finally raining in the Garden of Eden for the first time. Then it stopped, but only above him.

Glancing up, Samael stared at a dusty gray wing that hovered over his head, before looking at the demon who was looking at the humans, the slightest hint of pink on his cheeks. Samael smiled and stepped closer to Azrafel, watching as Adam and Eve continued their trek in the desert as it rained above the celestial and occult beings.

This was gonna be the start of an interesting friendship.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I decided to change the fruit. I know a lot of other people change it from an apple to other things, like peaches, oranges, figs, ect. but for the sake of matching the title of this ridiculous story, I made it a lemon. Which is hilarious, with great knowledge comes one hell of a sucker punch to the taste buds. 
> 
> Just the first chapter, I’ve got plans for more stuff of their history together, but that’ll take place in one-shots or cold openings for certain chapters. I’ve already written the infamous Bookshop deleted scene as a one-shot, so I’ll probably take a few more of their Cold Opening scenes and make them into their own side stories, including some stuff that wasn’t covered in the show. I’m a history major and I’m looking for any excuse to write these two in different periods of time. 
> 
> Next chapter: It’s finally happening, six thousand years later and it’s time for the End of the World to start. And, in order for that to happen, a demon is gonna need a ride to the cemetery from an angel.
> 
> Did they really do the right and wrong thing? Who knows. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, please comment and kudos!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One would suspect that the night the Antichrist comes to Earth would be dark and stormy for dramatic effects, but calm and foggy works just as well when it comes to the Beginning of the End.
> 
> And for one angel and one demon, either way, it was the start of a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter two of Sour Blessings! Here, we start to get into the nonsense of the story and a massive change to the original plot from the show.
> 
> I am using the script book to help me write up this chapter, but it’s mostly for context, a lot of the dialogue has to change in order to make this work.
> 
> Warning: Aziraphale is a terrible demon and Crowley is a terrible angel, MASSIVE change to the graveyard scene and the nunnery 
> 
> On with the fic!
> 
> EDIT: So, I'm working with someone for the Reverse Big Bang project and they have politely told me that I use present tense a lot, so I'm at least going to go through and edit this fic to fix that. Whoops.

**_August 2007_ **

There was a loud ringing in the building, catching the attention of one Aziraphale, formally known as Azrafel, Demon of Eden, also known as A.Z. Fell to the humans who wander around this part of Soho.

Getting up from his desk, he moved to pick up the handle of his antique phone, both happy and unhappy that it still worked even though it's never been plugged. Lovely to get calls from his friend, terrible to get calls from potential customers. He answered, listening to the human on the other end of the phone as he glanced around his shop with a slight annoyance.

Aziraphale was a kind looking man that no one would suspect of ever being a demon. Typically, he can be found wearing comfortable, yet Victorian styled, clothing when dealing with his antique shop, but today was a day off and he was dressed more for that than anything else. A cardigan and comfortable shirt and pants combo, added to his disarming appearance of being perfectly normal and kind. He picked a piece of lint off his shirt, that should have known better than to be on his clean clothing, as he continued to listen to the customer.

“I would need to check the bookshelves of my collection.” He commented. “But I do know I have a first edition, 1740, of _Past, Present and to Come_ , Mother Shipton’s Yorkshire prophecies. Red Morocco binding, only slightly foxed. I think I’ve priced it at about four hundred pounds! I also have several later, less desirable editions. I’ll set it aside for you.”

He was not going to hand over his good stuff, but he is always happy to rid of himself of his ‘extras’ that he made sure were not perfect, yet he could still cheat someone out of their money for. For this book, which was personally signed for him when he first got it centuries ago, he had a backup that was clearly not the original, but only in his eyes.

And, if the unexpecting customer found that some of the language changed into an ancient tongue that no human on Earth could decipher, well... there was a no returns policy here! “Now, my books of prophecy are not normally what people come in looking for, but I am happy to make deals. Is there anything else you’re looking for?”

His books of prophecies were meant more for his own enjoyment, his own fascination, same as his misprinted religious texts. He owned an antique store, he was meant to be selling old junk, not his precious collection of books, but there was nothing wrong with scamming someone out of a lot of money! Aziraphale had to get his monthly quota of dastardly deeds in somehow. 

He glanced out the window, seeing a man and woman, clearly on a date, stopping across the street at the crosswalk. He took note that the man was looking at a nearby woman in a much shorter skirt compared to his girlfriend’s, and with a wave of the demon's hand, the girlfriend noticed the boyfriend was attempting to take a picture of the other girl when she bent over to pick up her phone she suddenly dropped. He watched with a bit of glee when the boyfriend was slapped hard across the face.

“ _The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter?_ ” Aziraphale blinked, returning to the conversation on the phone. “I’m so sorry, I can’t help you. Of course, I know who she was: born 1600, exploded 1656. But there are no copies of her book available. I’m not holding out on you. You could name your own price for a copy… No, I can’t name my price! I don’t have it, nobody does!”

He moved to write down a phone number, only to pause, making a face.

“There really is no need for that kind of language.”

\--

Samael, the self-proclaimed former Archangel, who was currently going by the name Anthony J. Crowley, was busy checking his herb garden for any problems.

He looked out towards the open window of his private greenhouse, staring down at the streets below. He saw a young mother, ignoring her stroller as she dealt with a phone call. In her absentminded state, the stroller moved away from her. With a frown, Crowley snapped his fingers downwards, and the stroller came to a complete stop before it went into the heavy traffic.

Crowley smiled happily at the little miracle, just another tally for his monthly list of good deeds, before he returned to his plants, carefully pruning them. There was a shift in the air, and he almost got excited. At least, until he smelled not the scent of fancy cologne and hints of rich chocolate, but of a too clean smell, covering the scent of ozone.

The natural smell of angels.

He turned, seeing a taller, broad man, with a plastic smile that any retail worker would kill to have on their face during their shifts.

“I saw that, excellent work, Samael.” Gabriel praised, his tone almost hinting towards being genuine.

“Crowley.” The other angel corrected. “Don’t go by Samael much nowadays.”

“Right, because of the supposed connection you have to the Demon of Eden.”

Crowley would never admit to it, but… well… he was technically the Demon of Eden. Actually, he was the Serpent of Eden, but Heaven didn’t need to know that. He only needed to be in trouble with them when it came to the flaming sword, not the whole tricking Eve into eating the fruit. However, the name change had nothing to do with Aziraphale or Eden, it was his choice.

“What can I do you for? ‘s not every day that you come by to visit.”

Gabriel seemed to be ignoring his question, looking around at greenhouse. It was just one room in Crowley's apartment, dedicated to the plants that needed such a space, unlike a certain group that knew they could grow in different conditions from their norm in the other part of the apartment. The vegetables and fruits, however, hadn’t learned that skill yet, so they were restricted to the area of the flat that had the best sunlight. But in due time, oh, they would learn that they _can_ and _will_ grow wherever Crowley deemed fit for them in the rest of his home.

The Messenger approached the vegetation, looking at the plump tomatoes that were going to need to be picked soon. “What is this?”

“A tomato.” Crowley replied. “It’s delicious when prepared into a sauce, or when mixed with mozzarella cheese and basil.”

Gabriel made a face, turning away to look at the other man. He didn’t seem to take note that Crowley was nervous, the angels always made him nervous. The former Archangel fiddled with his long hair, twisting it into a braid unconsciously as Gabriel put on his smile again.

“Why do you consume these things? You’re an angel.”

“It’s pretty good. It’s what humans do, and if I’m gonna be living here with them, well, I’ve gotta keep up appearances. Can I offer you a drink or somethin’?”

“I do not sully the temple of my celestial body with gross matter.” Gabriel replied in a matter-of-face tone.

Crowley grabbed for his cup of coffee he had set aside and downed the whole thing in one go, he was gonna need the energy to deal with this guy. “Obviously not. Nice suit.” He remarked when he set the cup aside.

This actually made Gabriel smile truly. “Yes, I like the clothes. Pity they won’t be around for much longer.”

“They won’t?” Oh, that doesn't sound good. There was an uncomfortable prickle at the back of Crowley's head, he knew something big was coming, just over the horizon. 

“My informants suggest that the demon Azrafel may be involved. You need to keep him under observation, without, of course, letting him know that’s what you’re doing.”

The redhead scoffed. “I do know. I’ve been on Earth doing this since the beginning.”

“And so has Azrafel. It’s a miracle he hasn’t spotted you, yet.” Gabriel's smile was much more flashy now. “I know. Miracles are what we do.”

\--

It wasn’t a dark and stormy night, but don’t let the weather fool you.

Just because it’s a mild night doesn’t mean that the forces of evil aren’t abroad. They are. They are everywhere.

The ground of an old, abandoned cemetery began to rumble as two figures rose from the cold, slightly wet dirt. Hastur and Ligur, two of the most important Dukes of Hell, stood on the no-longer hallow ground, dusting a bit of the grass and dirt off their already-filthy coats. It wasn’t necessary, but it was just a nice effect to seem casual.

They were two of Hell’s more dangerous and important agents, they were those guys in the office that did their jobs way too well that even the boss was afraid of them and would go to them for questions about how a certain task could be done, even if it wasn’t their department. They were what one would consider the true villains in the story.

Reaching down, Ligur picked up a wicker basket that had rose from the ground with them and moved to follow his companion to the correct meeting point. If anyone happened to be in the cemetery this evening, they would be looking at two, strange men that their mind wanted to believe were men but knew deep down that they were the spawns of true Hell.

And they liked being seen that way, thank you very much.

Hastur scowled as he put a cigarette to his lips, before handing one to the other demon. They didn’t care much for human-y things, but these little death traps were a pleasant creation from humans. He looked around, unable to find who they were looking for. “Bugger all this for a lark. He should have been waitin’ for us.”

“You trust him?” Ligur asked as he lit his cigarette, taking a drag.

“Nope.”

“Good. Be a funny ol’ world if demons went around trustin’ each other. What’s he callin’ himself these days?”

“Aziraphale.”

Ligur pulls a face. “What sort of self-respectin’ demon decides to go back to using his angelic name?”

“One with no self-respect, apparently.”

\--

Aziraphale, the demon who apparently had no self-respect according to his fellow occupants of Hell, was currently gripping for dear life to his seat of a very beautiful, yet very deadly, Bentley, that was being driven by a crimson-haired man-shaped being with a wicked grin on his face. Behind them, Aziraphale was very aware of the flashing blue lights of a police car getting closer.

The driver seemed to have taken notice of this to and casually said ‘nope’ before putting his foot down, hard, on the gas. “Don’t got time for this.”

As the classic car sped up, the two officers behind them watched in fascination. The darker haired of the two frowned, trying to keep up with this fast-moving piece of automobile history.

“The nutter’s doing a hundred and ten. In the fog. You know what this means?” Said the bearded officer in the passenger seat.

“We get to do a hundred and fifteen. Brilliant. What the hell kinda car is that?”

“Vintage Bentley, I think. Come on, nutter. Pull over.”

The sound of the sirens was really grating on the driver’s nerves, and he turned to look at his companion. “You’re better at being a _pest_ , mind helping your favorite ethereal being out?”

Aziraphale made a face, rolling his eyes, before snapping his fingers with an upwards flick of his wrist. “Really, darling, you could have simply done something like this yourself.”

“Can’t.” Came the reply. “Drivin'.”

“That’s never stopped you before…” Aziraphale mumbled quietly to himself, returning to jamming his claws into his seat. It was miraculous that he didn’t puncture the original leather, lest he face the wrath of the driver.

Meanwhile, the two officers noticed their car was acting up, pulling over to see what the trouble was with the engine.

Rats. That was what was the trouble with the engine. Lots and lots of rats.

\--

Hastur dropped the used end of his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with a nasty scowl on his face. Where the Heaven was Aziraphale, he was told to come at this spot, at a particular time! And it was nearly that time…

“Think that’s him?” Ligur spoke up, just as the faint sound of music sounded through the empty cemetery, bright headlights shined towards them through the thick fog. The music was blaring loudly, the sounds of _Dancing Queen_ filled the foggy night, though it sort of sounded like the singer was taking on a different voice, not that Hastur or Ligur knew anything about music to understand what was wrong with the song.

“Here he is now,” Hastur huffed, “the lazy bastard.”

“Didn’t know he could drive one of those horseless carriages. Cars, yeah?”

Hastur nodded, watching as the car pulled up, the music blasting, before getting quieter, just a bit.

“If you ask me,” The frog demon scoffed, “he’s been up here too long. Got ‘em self some sorta device to help with his hearin’, don’t know why, it was a mark of his Fall. Idiot. Can’t embrace his true nature.”

The lights went out, plunging them back into a mild darkness. There was a shuffling sound, followed by a car door slamming, moments before it sounded like someone running. The lights suddenly came right back on, brighter than before, and a figure came waltzing towards them from the driver’s side of the car.

The demons stared at the newcomer, taking in how different he looked to them. Dressed in clean clothing, sweatpants and a comfortable dark blue shirt, with a light gray cardigan over it, he looked like he just woke up from a nap. Aziraphale looked nothing like the dirty, slimy demons who worked in Hell, yet he was still a demon, much to the distaste of the two before him.

“All hail Satan.” Hastur announced.

“All hail Satan.” Ligur repeated, watching the comfortably dressed demon approach.

“Oh.” Aziraphale blinked. “Uh, right, hello, fellows. Sorry, I was almost not on time! You know how it can be on the A40 at Denham. Oh, and then I tried to cut up towards Chorleywood-” The cat demon’s rambling was cut off by Hastur raising a hand.

“Now we are all here, we must recount the Deeds of the Day.” He spoke and Aziraphale made a face. Confusion crossed him before he remembered what that meant, but it went ignored as Hastur continued. “I have tempted a priest. As he walked down the street and saw the pretty girls in the sun, I put Doubt into his mind. He would have been a saint, but now… within a decade, we shall have him.”

Ligur nodded in approval, even giving a little clap. Aziraphale put on a force smile, giving a thumbs up. “Nicely done.” He spoke, trying to be polite.

“I have corrupted a politician.” Ligur spoke up next. “I let him think a tiny bribe would not hurt. Within a year, we shall have him.”

Hastur looked at him with great approval as well, while Aziraphale just nodded. The dukes turned to look at the bearded man who blinked, before grinning. “Oh, you will like this, gentlemen!”

It’s clear by the expressions on their faces that already they don’t.

“I brought down every London-area mobile phone network tonight!” He said with such delight, he even wiggled his fingers in glee at his evil, little scheme to annoy the hell out of everyone, including the driver of the Bentley. However, said driver had yet to realize this had happened, it would be delightful to see his reaction in person.

Aziraphale looked at the two Dukes of Hell who just stared. “Yes?” Hastur asked, as if expecting more to the story.

“It wasn’t easy,” Aziraphale shrugged, “I had to send rats into the BT Tower, and I had to pour tea into the network controller, while the backup system was offline for maintenance…” It had been a rather difficult task to pull off, considering that Aziraphale didn’t even really use his own mobile that often, or at all. It was just sorta there, in his pocket, and he used his ancient computer at home to figure out what any of this stuff meant. Technology, though something he had a hand in advancing, wasn't really his thing until it became very outdated.

“And what exactly has that done to secure souls for our master?” The frog demon asked, rather annoyed.

“Oh, come on!” Aziraphale huffed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Think about it for a second, gentlemen! Fifteen million annoyed people? Who take it out on each other? Who take it out on everyone else? Ruined days. Ruined nights. The knock-on effects are incalculable…”

“It’s not exactly… craftsmanship.” Ligur raised an eyebrow.

Aziraphale scoffed. “Head office doesn’t seem to mind! They love me down there. My bad fellows, times are changing.” Said the demon who would rather walk around in his Victorian clothing than ever dare put on a pair of skinny jeans like his friend liked to wear. “So, what is this meeting about?”

“This.”

Reaching over, Hastur took the wicker basket that Aziraphale had only just noticed was there. He handed it over to Ligur, who grinned wickedly at Aziraphale. The cat demon felt a cold chill go down his spine, he could smell something in the air, something… so different from the norm that he knew exactly what it was.

No… it couldn’t be… so soon? He thought they had more time-!

“No.” Aziraphale blinked.

“Yes.” Ligur smirked.

“… Already?”

Hastur rolled his eyes, though it was hard to tell with how they looked. “Yes.”

The cat demon swallowed. “And… it’s up to me to…?”

“Yes.” The lizard demon was about ready to slap him.

Aziraphale shifted on his feet, shoving his hands into his cardigan’s pockets. “You know, this sort of thing it’s really my… well, scene?”

Ligur scoffed, his smirk returning. “Your scene. Your starring role. Take it.”

“Like you said, times are changin’.” Hastur gestured to the basket and Aziraphale felt that cold chill again.

“They’re comin’ to an end, for a start.” Ligur commented like this wasn’t a terrible thing, but to Aziraphale, it was the worst event right now.

The cleaner demon wanted to scream and shout, and run back to the car, but he couldn’t do that, not with these two watching him. He wasn’t going to make a fool of himself right now. “Why me?” He asked, sounding defeated.

“’They love you down there’,” Hastur spoke with bile in his voice as he mocked Aziraphale’s previous statement, “and what an opportunity! Ligur here would give his right arm to be you tonight.”

“Well, somebody’s right arm.” His companion grinned as Hastur held out a clipboard for Aziraphale to sign. Aziraphale moved to sign it, only to be told to use his ‘real’ name. With a small huff, Aziraphale licked the tip of his finger, sparks flew as he made a very distinct, intricate sigil, and once he finished, the paper went up like it would if it were flash paper.

Ligur held out the basket for him and Aziraphale was careful to take it from him, knowing that he had to be, there was precious cargo inside that would be the end of him if he dropped the basket. “Now what?” He asked, looking at the two dukes.

“You will receive instructions.” Hastur informed him, before noticing the look of dejection on the other’s face. “Why so glum? The moment we have been workin' for all these centuries is at hand!”

“Centuries.” Aziraphale said, dully.

“Our moment of eternal triumph awaits!” Ligur added on.

“Triumph.” Aziraphale said, just as dully as before.

Hastur leaned forward, looking smug. “And you will be a tool of that glorious destiny!”

Once more, with no passion, “Glorious. Tool. Yes.” His grip on the basket was tight and clammy. He just wanted to go back to the shop and drink until he couldn’t remember these past few minutes.

“Alright, well… I’ll, er, be off then. Get it over with. Not that I want to get it over with..! Obviously, but you know me… keen.” When he looked up at them, Aziraphale found that the dukes were clearly not amused with him. “Sooooo, I’ll be popping along! See you gentlemen at, uh, you know what, see you around. Er, great! Fine. Ciao?”

The fog seemed to get thicker as Aziraphale vanished into it, there was the faint sound of a car door slamming shut before the Bentley vanished into the night, driving away while the music continued to blast.

Ligur and Hastur stood there, the former turning to the latter. “Wossat mean, ‘ciao’?”

“It’s Italian. It means ‘food’.”

\--

“Soooooo… how’d it go, kitty cat?”

Aziraphale turned to the driver, gripping tightly at the basket in his lap. “I think I nearly died where I stood, darling.”

The other raised an eyebrow over his bizarre shades, one lens red, the other blue, he was such a fan of that strange era of the early 20th century where 3D movies started to become a thing, it still stuck around in his wardrobe even now. “What happened?”

The demon looked at the basket, about to open his mouth, when the other responded. “Crap, crap, crap, shit!”

“W-what is it?”

“This is really it, isn’t it?”

“Crowley… you knew?”

Crowley inhaled sharply through his teeth as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Gabriel. Stopped by the greenhouse, happily told me that it was rumored that the child would be coming to Earth soon. Didn’t think it would be tonight…”

“And you didn’t tell me this when we started the drive because…?”

The redhead shifted, making a whine as he rolled his head back. “'Cause I knew you’d get fussy about it, and then make a scene at the meeting with whatever spawn of Hell was forced to meet with you! You’ve done it before; you’d do it again.”

Before Aziraphale could snap at his companion, he coughed, gagging hard, before reaching into his mouth and started to pull something out. Crowley made a face, watching as the demon removed a small scroll from his mouth. “W-what the Hell was that for!? I thought Hell sent you messages through interrupted radio broadcasts, or television shows! Or text messages if you actually bothered to use your phone.”

Aziraphale smacked his lips, tasting the nastiness of old paper and brimstone on his tongue. “Uhg, can’t have them messaging me on your stereo system, darling boy. Then they’d be wondering why I’m in the same vehicle with a known angel!”

“Still, could have just sent you a text. What’s the message?”

With a huff, Aziraphale removed the little bit of string around the scroll and opened it, a strange, gray fog came from the paper, the words turning to smoke as they entered directly into the cat demon’s eyes. “My instructions…” He mumbled before burning the scroll in his palm.

Crowley frowned, continuing down the road as Aziraphale gave him instructions on where to go, hitting a bump in the road. The sudden jostling of the car startled the contents of the basket and the sound of a baby crying came from it, loudly making noises over the sound of Freddie Mercury singing _Mamma Mia_.

\--

The Bentley arrived outside of a nunnery-ran hospital in a small town called Tadfield. There were vehicles around that were clearly American, meaning that the plan was going well for both sides, especially Hell’s.

“Are you going to join me?” Aziraphale asked, looking at Crowley as he parked.

“’pose I should, I mean, might as well have an agent of Heaven making sure that the baby arrives safely.”

“It’s not really necessary for Heaven to be involved in this part.”

“I know that, but you know that they’ll want to know it happened correctly, since they want this plan to work just as well as Hell does.” Crowley sighed as he opened the door, stepping out of his car. He moved to the other side, opening the door for Aziraphale, who stepped out with the basket in hand.

Neither of them found any sort of irony in the fact that a demon who wasn’t a very good demon and an angel who was terrible at his job were about to deliver the Antichrist to the family that would ultimately decide the fate of the world.

It may help to understand human affairs to know that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.

This was going to be one of those moments in history.

There was a man standing outside the front doors to the nunnery, smoking a pipe as he looked over at the two man-shaped beings. Both of the newcomers, unknown to the man named Mr. Arthur Young, automatically assumed he had something to do with the American family, simply due to him being near the motorcade’s cars.

“Oh.” Mr. Young blinked. “You left your lights on.”

The redheaded man snapped his fingers, the lights automatically shut off, impressing the human. “Oh, that’s clever. Is it infra-red?”

“Has it started?” The redhead asked instead of answering.

“They made me go out.”

“Any idea how long we’ve got?”

Mr. Young gave a shrug as the gray-haired man stepped past him, heading for the doors, while the redhead lingered behind. “I think we were, er, getting on with it, doctor.”

The taller of the two newcomers raised an eyebrow over his odd shades. “Who?”

“Got it!” The other man huffed as he reached for the doors. “What room is she in?”

“We’re in room three.” Mr. Young replied, seeing the two men nod at one another.

“Room three, got it.” The gray-haired one stepped inside, and the one in 3D-glasses gave his thanks, following behind before slamming the doors shut.

There is a trick they do with one pea and three shells or playing cards, which is very hard to follow, and something like it, for greater stakes than a handful of loose change, is about to take place.

Deirdre Young is in Delivery Room Three. She is having a golden-haired male baby we will call Baby A.

Harriet Dowling is giving birth in Delivery Room Four. She is having a golden-haired male baby we will call Baby B.

As this is happening, the angel and the demon made their way through the hospital, trying to find a demonic nun. And as this was also happening, Crowley was certainly not doing as well on these corrupted floors as his friend was. It’s not as bad as being in a demonic chapel, but it’s clear that the floor was very uncomfortable, especially when one manifested his snake-skin shoes like he did.

“You look like a daft fool. You should have stayed in the car.” Aziraphale huffed.

“You asked me to come with you!” Crowley hissed, bouncing on his feet a little. “There’s gotta be a bloody nun around here- there!”

He pointed towards a woman walking down the hall, dressed in her black and white clothing. He knew automatically that she was a demonic nun, not a holy one. Perfect! Excellent! Let’s get this stupid business over with!

“Excuse me!” He shouted at her, gesturing her over.

Sister Mary Loquacious was about to be handed a golden-haired male baby we will call the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Prince of This World, and Lord of Darkness.

Mary looked up and approached towards the two men, curious as to why one was bouncing around like he had pebbles in his shoes, but that curiosity was now on the basket. Aziraphale noticed she’s carrying a biscuit tin, but didn't question why, he never understood these sorts of religious people.

“Master Azrafel?” She asked, watching the demon wince.

“Aziraphale, thank you.”

“Right, right.” Mary smiled before looking at the basket with glee. “Is that him?”

“Yes.” Said the demon.

“Yup!” Said the angel.

Carefully, Sister Mary opened the basket, looking inside at the baby before removing him, noting that he’s wrapped up in a bright red blanket. “Hm, only I’d expected funny eyes.” Neither men commented on that. “Or teensy-weeny little hoofikins. Or a widdle tail!”

“Oh, it’s definitely him.” The other man commented, trying to lean on Aziraphale, his feet still moving about. He had a tone in his voice that clearly screamed that he didn’t want to have this conversation, that he wanted to leave!

“Fancy me,” Sister Mary grinned in delight, “holding the Antichrist! And counting his little toesy-wosies… do you look like your daddy? I bet you do, I bet you look like your daddywaddykins!”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, feeling Crowley trying to climb up on him to ease some of the pain. It wasn’t like the church in 1941, but still, he was probably dealing with some uncomfortable burns. “He doesn’t, take him up to room three.”

The nun nodded, placing him back in the basket, taking it from the demon. “Room three… do you think he’ll remember me when he grows up?”

“Pray that he doesn’t.”

With that, he carried the angel on his back, who sighed happily in relief, and headed for the exit. Sister Mary turned around, making her way to room three, having no idea how complicated all of this has gotten with the addition of an unexpected baby that no one guessed would be there.

Well, one individual did, but that’s for a Game that no one else was in on.

Not even the black winged angel who happened to help kickstart the game six thousand years ago.

As for Baby A, Baby B, and the Adversary, the events that happened on this evening in August of 2007 were going to lead them all down different, yet oddly connected, paths, in just the slightest of ways. One would be the false Antichrist who will be taught to crush his enemies under his feet, another one being the true Destroyer of Worlds with no clue as to this title bestowed upon him, and the last will live a fairly normal life and have an interest in raising tropical fish.

There was a part for all in Her Plan, and the Antichrist’s part of it had just begun with an honest mix-up.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna write out the whole scene with the nuns and the swap, but it would pretty much remain the same. As I said, only a few characters are swapped, we’ll be meeting them in due time, probably next chapter.
> 
> As for why Crowley is there when in canon, he was by himself? Well, it was easier to write it out like this, and much more fun. I feel like Aziraphale isn’t much for driving and Crowley would still be all for it, I’m not cruel to separate him from his precious Bentley.
> 
> Also, it’s so much fun to have them both doing this. I could have clearly written the driver as Crowley, but it was more fun pretending there was a mystery to it even though it was so obvious. 
> 
> And if you’re curious as to why I mentioned ABBA, I like the idea that Crowley is very much into classic pop music and the like, along with what he likes in canon, but as the listens, it fuses with Queen so it’s a strange blend, pretty much Queen doing covers of songs. 
> 
> By the way, the cops are different in the script from what I wrote, but I made a reference to the two cops from the Radio Omens drama. I’m sure you can figure out who they are meant to be from that hint. 
> 
> Next chapter: The Ineffable Fools being the Ineffable Godparents, a lady witchfinder comes into position as a private, a neurotic man follows his written-down destiny, and we find out that the swap didn’t go as it was meant to.
> 
> Because nothing is easy. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please comment and kudos!


End file.
